Goodbye
by MuffyLooWho
Summary: T. Wyldon and Dom share a grief. Character death.


_**Don't know that this really fits the song, but the song is what inspired the idea. I own nothing but the idea. Song is by James Blunt, Characters are Tamora Pierce's.**_

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><p><em>Did I disappoint you or let you down?<em>

_Should I be feeling guilty, or let the judges frown?_

He looked out over the walls of the fort, lost in thought. She had left, just last night. This time, he knew without a doubt she would not be coming back. Too much. All of it had been too much, too soon. He had known it, and still… he couldn't have stopped himself no matter the circumstances. He had waited too long, keeping his own feelings reined, so tightly reined in whenever he was around her it was a wonder he hadn't exploded. The others in The Own had noticed he'd quit taking in the ladies as he normally had. Thankfully they hadn't seem to realize to whom the change was to be attributed.

_Cause I saw the end, before we'd begun._

_Yes I saw you were blind, and I knew I had won._

Slowly, though, he'd begun to notice that she hadn't been completely immune to him. Little tells, here and there, began to show through her mask, visible only because he'd watched her so closely. He'd drank in every detail of her, catching and analyzing even the slightest crinkle of her eyes, the merest hint of a tilt to her lips. He'd began to notice how she'd redden ever so slightly when he flirted. He'd seen how she was hesitant to touch him when passing equipment or other things between them. He'd realized he was getting to her even as she was getting to him, and had taken shameless advantage. He'd played to those slight tells, until finally he'd had her exactly where he'd wanted her.

_So I took what's mine, by eternal right. Took your soul out into the night._

_It may be over, but it won't stop there. I am here for you, if you'd only care._

That first night had been almost surreal for him. After so long, after waiting for what seemed a hundred lifetimes, she's come to him. She'd been shy, almost apologetic for her lack of experience. She'd tried to hide herself from him even as she's offer herself to him, ashamed at her warrior's figure as compared to the court ladies. He'd told her, shown her, with words and deeds, that to him, she was perfect. She was beautiful. She was a dream that he'd thought forever out of his grasp. She'd cried that first time, but had come back, her trust and love for him as pure as anything he'd ever known before or since.

_You touched my heart, you touched my soul. You changed my life and all my goals._

_Love is blind and I knew it. My heart was blinded by you._

He'd always known how things would end between them, and end they would. He wasn't for someone as noble and compassionate as she, that wasn't the type of man he was. He'd hoped that, when the time come, they'd part amicably. If he'd been a better man, he'd have stopped their affair before it'd even started. But he'd not been a better man, could not have been a better man. She'd intrigued him from the first he'd learned of her existence through his cousin's missives. She'd enchanted him the first time he'd seen her taming that beastly gelding. And he'd been thoroughly smitten with her by the end of her tenure with m'lord.

The changes that had come over him were so gradual that they were hardly noticed by anyone. From being the blue-eyed charmer with a different mot every night, he'd become more known to occupy a card or dicing table. He'd still flirt, that was second nature, but never did he disappear to the top rooms of the inns anymore. Never did he indulge in his role of glib playboy. He'd become steadier, more focused. Still charming, and never one to pass up a practical joke, still, his demeanor leaned more and more towards duty and away from frivolity. Those who did take note attributed it to him finally growing up.

_I've kissed your lips and held your hand, I've shared your dreams and shared your bed. _

_I know you well, I know your smell. I've been addicted to you._

He'd realized he loved her with an almost comical shock if it hadn't been directed at himself. It was simple, and as natural to him as breathing. He couldn't go an hour without her face filling his mind, the smell of her skin, the feel of her lips. He'd quickly come to know every inch of her, inside and out. The mask she'd always held her emotions behind was as clear to him as if she'd worn every emotion in full display. And as he began to realize that she was pulling away, he'd panicked. How could he continue without knowing she was right there, waiting for him, wanting him, being a support he'd scarcely realized he'd needed? The curve of her body along his as she slept, the soft sigh of her breath as she dreamed, all had become a part of what made his existence complete. And she's wanted to take that away from him, that feeling of contentment, of happiness, of peace amidst the chaos of war and bandits. His need and his fear outweighed his common sense, his resolve to end things in a friendly way. They'd fought, accusations of betrayal countered with those of over-possessiveness. They'd made up, for a short while. But the pulling away would begin again, and the fights. He couldn't stop it, and watched from some far off place as his new found paradise crumbled around him. He was helpless, and in this, he'd been cutting, cold, cruel.

And now… now she was gone.

_I am a dreamer, and when I wake, you can't break my spirit. It's my dreams you take._

_And as you move on, remember me. Remember us and all we used to be._

He was never known as man to give over to foolish fancies. He was a solid, dependable sort, Conservative in thought and deed, quiet and stern in demeanor. He'd married, raised a family. He'd done his service to king and country. He'd done his duties as he'd been taught, as had been expected, and had never balked. He'd always been such. Or so others would have described him. Secretly, he'd been known to dream, to wish, to want what was not his to have. He'd wanted to throw rules and morality and thoughts of what was "right" straight out the window. He'd wanted, just once, to be selfish and take without a worry to the repercussions. If any had heard his thoughts, they'd have been struck dumb. And equally so at the cause.

She'd shown up, unexpected, at Cavall. She'd been drenched and chilled to the bone from riding through the rain. He'd quickly ushered her in, barking orders at the maids to get her a room made up and a fire going to warm her, something for her to eat. He'd asked no questions, sensing in her a need to sort her own thoughts out before she ventured an explanation for this impromptu visit. So he'd simply sat back and observed her as she ate, warming herself at the fire. She'd said nothing beyond the first greeting, and he'd wondered, speculated. The meal done and the shivers abated, he'd slipped into roll of training master and commanded her to report. She'd been reluctant, something he'd never known in her unless fear was involved, and worry rose in him. Then her story had come tumbling out in a babble that was completely out of character for her. And he'd understood, been surprised.

_I've seen you cry. I've seen you smile. I've watched you sleeping for a while._

_I'd be the father of your child. I'd spend a lifetime with you._

He'd taken her in, a fact which had surprised as much as the fact that she'd come to him. She'd made him promise that no one but the king would know where she was and why, and, against all common sense, he'd complied. She'd helped him around the manner and had ridden daily to the outlying villages, teaching skills in fighting and defense until she was no longer able. Her presence had infiltrated his life completely and subtly. Cavall had been in need of a female's touch since Vivienne's passing, and she'd filled it admirable well for a lady without a conventional training for such things. The feelings that over took him had been gradual, a slow creeping that he'd been aware of for some time. He'd been completely content to keep her there, for however long she'd want to stay. He'd actually planned out the means by which to propose, to give her his name and security in a time he'd known she was on unsure footing.

_I know your fears and you know mine. We've had our doubts, but now we're fine._

_And I love you, I swear that's true. I cannot live without you._

She'd been surprised, of course, but not at the sentiment. She'd seen him watching her, had seen the changes in his attitude towards her, his speech and manner softening. She'd felt herself reciprocating those feelings, had felt secure in his stability and his unwavering belief in her own abilities to handle anything. She'd taken her own strength from that belief, and had begun planning for a future for which she'd not bargained. He'd been with her every step of the way, a silent rock that she'd felt herself steadily coming to rely on more and more. They'd learn more about each other in those long months than anyone else had ever known, and the nights when she'd been unable to sleep, he'd held her in his arms, stroking her hair and whispering softly in her ear until the tensions eased and she'd slept peacefully. She'd never known the nights he'd spent simply watching her as she'd slept. He'd revealed his fear of becoming old and useless, of being more a hindrance than a help. He'd feared becoming dependent on his daughters, burdening them with a man too old to care for himself. She'd told him of her fear of never truly fitting anywhere, of never finding a place to call her own. Others had thought her secure in herself and her station, but she'd shown a complex feeling of being a misfit, a freak. She'd been afraid that this had been the reason her relationships had never worked for her, and had resigned herself to a life alone. And he'd accepted then that he loved her, had loved her for longer than she'd ever realized.

_And I still hold your hand in mine, in mine while I'm asleep._

Dom looked down at the place where she lay, not really seeing. She'd been so strong, so capable. She'd been immortal. And he'd taken her life, driven her into the Dark Realms with nothing more than a thoughtless act. He'd never thought it would be something he'd have to worry about. He'd known she'd had the charm, had had it since Kennan. But that one night, that last night that had been more about passion and possession than anything else, stood clear in his mind. She'd not had it then, the chain had been broken and been sent off to be fixed. And she'd disappeared the morning after, telling no one of her destination. He'd not even known. He hadn't been there. He'd looked for her, had had mages scry for her, but she'd been hidden, only enough coming through to tell him she was alive. He'd lived in misery for twelve terrible months, always looking where ever he went for a sign of her. When Wyldon had finally found him, he'd been a ghost of the man she'd known and loved. No censure came from the stern man as he'd handed Dom a letter written in a hand as familiar as his own. As he'd read the contents, his heart broke again. He'd failed her. He'd loved her and he'd failed her, and now she was gone. He'd looked to Wyldon, who'd simply nodded in understanding sympathy.

_And I'll still bear my soul in time, when I'm kneeling at your feet._

He'd delivered the letter, as she'd wished before… before. It'd taken him almost three months to find him, and he'd been in a sorry state when he had. Still, Wyldon knew he'd never been able to not act on anything she'd wished him to do. As the blue eyed sergeant read the letter, Wyldon watched his expression turn to anguish, and felt the empathetic knife turn in his own heart. Silently, he'd nodded, sharing the man's grief and pain. And now they both stood at the foot of where the woman they both loved was laid to rest. Wyldon and Dom were both in disbelief that something that was an everyday occurrence could have felled the greatest warrior they'd both been priviledged to know. Such a simple complication, unnoticed until it was too late. Wyldon had told Dom how it'd happened, quickly, and without any real suffering.

_I'm so hollow, baby. I'm so hollow._

They turned and walked away, each knowing they'd come back many more times. As they walked towards Cavall, a woman came to the door, two small bundles in her arms. She turned to Wyldon and then Dom, holding the bundles towards them until each man took one. They both looked down into eyes that were a curious mix of blue and hazel, and vowed that Keladry of Mindelin would live on in her children.


End file.
